Harry Potter and the Throne of Roses
by IPrayToVirgil
Summary: After the events of the Department of Mysteries, Harry reaches an apex of thought in his life. Moving forward, he must embrace his friends as family to defeat Voldemort. Rating may change to M in the future! -Discontinued


**Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize from J.K. Rowling's series in this fiction, nor do I profit from it in any material way.**

**A/N: If you clicked on this story because you like Harry Potter, you're in luck, I really like the direction this story started going once I sat down to begin it. I will forewarn you though, I don't have a concrete plot yet, and things may show a few inconsistencies as it moves along. If you notice one, point it out via review please. If, however, you clicked on this because you are on my list for my other work over in the Alex Rider section, please don't hurt me! I know its been an ungodly amount of time since I updated, but I have a good reason, I swear! Anyway, enough ramblings, and on with the show!**

**Harry Potter and the Throne of Roses**

**Chapter 1**

**Letters and Visitors**

A grey cloud was settled over the normally dry, arid countryside of Surrey, pelting the landscape with a blanket of rain, almost as depressing as the color of the sky. A damp cold had settled over much of England in the past months, although to most, it was just another odd weather change due to global warming. What many of the people dwelling in England, or anywhere in the world for that matter, failed to realize, was that a war was breaking out. Not your conventional war, between two feuding governments, involving politics, guns, missiles, and other tools of war, but a war of fear, terror, and underhanded strikes. This war was hidden from the majority of humanity, but to the select few, who knew the truth, it was a horrifying reality, the creations of nightmares and horror stories. Tell the average person walking down the street that the worlds most powerful Dark Wizard was rising again, and they would laugh at you right? Not this crowd, because you see, these people were wizards, the fairy tale kind, with wands, and magic, dragons and sphinxes, potions and runes. In this small sect of the world, Lord Voldemort was rising to power again, and his reign of terror was setting in across the country. Only one person could do anything to stop it, and this one person is none other than Harry Potter.

The raven haired teen sat on the edge of the small twin bed that occupied his room. The sheets were ratty, wrinkled, and torn. His room was small and cramped, all of the free space taken up by his pig of a cousin, Dudley's, toys. A small desk occupied the corner of the room, upon which rested an empty bird cage, a few owl droppings and white feathers sitting in the bottom, its occupant having gone out hunting, and a large number of unopened letters sat strewn across the tabletop. At the foot of the bed lay a large, leather bound trunk, flung open with various articles of clothing hanging out of the tangled interior. Harry Potter fell back against his hard mattress, sighing as he stared at the ceiling once again. Due to certain extenuating circumstances, he had been forced to live here, at his Aunt and Uncle's house, working harder than most slaves, since Lord Voldemort murdered his parents when he was only a few months old. As thoughts of his parents swam to the forefront of his mind, his vibrant green eyes, exactly like his mother's, began to fill with tears. He removed his glasses, wiping the back of his hand against his eyes, when his fingers brushed his shaggy, black hair to the side, revealing his trademark, the lightning bolt shaped scar above his eyebrow.

He lay there on his bed for hours, staring into nothingness, his mind in a haze, after losing his godfather, Sirius Black in a battle against Voldemort's minions not two months previously. He was raised from his stupor by a tapping at his window. He rolled over on his bed in an attempt to ignore it, but the tapping persisted. Harry sighed, rubbing his bloodshot eyes as he propped himself up against the bed and looked out the mist covered window. A small brown owl he recognized as Ron's owl, Pigwidgeon, was standing on the sill of his window, with a trio of letters attached to his legs. He groggily unlatched the window, allowing the hyperactive owl entry into his room. He sat back on the bed as he waited for the owl to calm down, as it flew around his room, leaving a fine mist in the air as the water shed from his feathers. The owl finally came to a stop as it slammed into the closet door, and fell to the floor unconscious. He gingerly picked the small owl off the floor, and untied the letters from its leg. Setting the owl down next to Hedwig's cage, he glanced at the top letter. The cramped scrawl of his best friend, Ron Weasley, splayed across the front of the envelope at an angle. He unceremoniously tossed the letter onto the desk, revealing the letter beneath it. Much neater than the previous letter, the elegant curling script of Hermione Granger rolled across the parchment. His eyes began to well up with tears as he tossed her most recent letter onto the desk with the others. The third letter caught his attention, the thick envelope was covered in discolored spots, and the inking of the address was streaked and runny, as if the author had been crying. What bothered Harry the most though, was that he couldn't place the handwriting with anyone he knew. Intrigued, Harry turned the envelope over and pulled out a rather lengthy piece of parchment. The ink on the letter, much like the ink on the envelope, was tear-stained and hard to decipher, but after a few minutes reading through it he managed to pick up on most of it.

_Dear Harry,_

_I know it seems odd writing to you, because we've never really known each other personally, just through Ron, I felt like I needed to tell you a few things. First off, what happened that night in the Department of Mysteries that night wasn't your fault, we forced you to let us come, and we knew the risks. Please don't beat yourself up over it. Second, Sirius would have wanted to die like he did, fighting for you, rather than live in hiding and die an old man. I know that's not what you want to hear right now, but I think in time you'll realize it too. _

_Second, I never got a chance to thank you for saving me from Tom in my first year, and I'm more grateful than you could ever imagine, and I just wish I could show you. Dumbledore told us about how Voldemort got inside your head at the Ministry, and I want to remind you that you're not alone in that experience. If you ever need anyone to talk to about it, or someone to confide in, I'm here for you._

_Love, and I mean it,_

_Ginny_

He took a deep breath as he finished the letter, and tried to organize his thoughts. His emotions were running rampant through his head. As soon as he read the end of the letter, his heart had started beating twice as fast. Uplifted by the joy of reading the one letter, he reached over to his desk and grabbed the letter Ron had sent along with Ginny's, tearing it open.

_Harry,_

_I know you have been getting my letters this summer, Pig came back with one of Hedwig's feathers in his beak last time, empty-handed again. If you're even reading these letters, I just want to let you know that Hermione and I are now dating, and we wanted to share the good news with you. Fred and George's joke shop is flourishing, and even Mum thinks the twins really hit their stride now. Ginny has been acting really weird lately, she hasn't left her room in weeks, and we hear her cry a lot. Hermione has tried talking to her but she won't answer. I hope your relatives are treating you better this summer, if not, I'll come over there and give them a piece of my mind._

_Cheer up,_

_Ron_

After hearing how distraught Ginny was over him and what happened, he reached into his school trunk and rummaged around for a fresh piece of parchment. His hand grasped around something, and as he pulled it out, he immediately regretted it. In his hand he had the package holding the communication mirror Sirius had given him as a Christmas present last year. As Harry stared blankly at the package, he cursed his stupidity for what seemed like the hundredth time, and dropped the package back into his trunk, and began to search for parchment once more.

He found his school supplies underneath his wadded up invisibility cloak, and pulled out the few items he would need, a jar of ink, a quill, and a piece of blank parchment. He used his forearm to push the mound of letters on the desk to the side, and uncorked the ink as he set forth thinking about what to write. After almost an hour, he pressed his quill to the paper, as his emotions flowed through the quill.

_Dear Ginny,_

_I was shocked when I saw I had a letter from you, but even more so at the fact that the parchment was stained with tears. What is making you so upset? I heard in a letter from Ron that you haven't even left your room! Just because I have to be miserable here with the Dursleys doesn't mean you should be miserable as well. It's your summer vacation, enjoy it! You should know, your letter has pulled me out of a funk I've been in for the last two weeks, and I'm grateful that you cared enough to let me know how you feel. Just like the offer you extended to me, I want you to know that you can always confide your secrets in me._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry_

He slid the parchment over to the side to air dry as he pulled out another sheet, preparing to write another letter. Without having to put so much emotional thought into his correspondence with Ron, it wasn't long before the quill could be heard rasping over the dry parchment.

_Dear Ron,_

_I apologize for not answering any of yours or Hermione's letters sooner, I have been plagued by guilt over a various number of things, and only until recently did something draw me out of that downward spiral. I wish you and Hermione the best in your relationship, as long as you promise me I won't end up the third wheel. Pass my wishes onto Hermione and the twins as well._

_Stay well,_

_Harry_

He left the letter out to dry as he carefully rolled up his letter to Ginny. He sighed and leaned back in the chair as his thoughts swarmed around his head again, after being pushed out by the prospect of writing. He rolled up his letter to Ron and tied it around the leg of the still unconscious owl. Leaving the window open, he took a deep breath of the fresh air, and it helped to clear his addled mind in just the slightest of ways. He heard a hoot, and turned, expecting Ron's owl to have woken up, but instead was met by the majestic white plumage of his own owl, Hedwig. He reached his hand out to stroke her feathers, and she cooed in contention. He took his letter to Ginny, and began to fasten it around Hedwig's leg, whispering to the owl softly, "Take this to Ginny, Ron's sister, but don't let him see you there." The owl gave a soft hoot of understanding, and with a flex of powerful wings, soared off into the grey cloud outside once again.

Harry made to put his writing supplies away, and as he did so, tripped over the loose floorboard in his room, where he used to hide sweets and other presents he received from his friends. The raucous noise garnered the unwanted attention of his Uncle, Vernon Dursley, and soon enough, his angry mumblings about freaks and 'that boy' could be heard as he pounded up the steps. Within moments, Harry could hear the rattling and clicks of various latches and locks installed on the door to prevent him from leaving were relieved of their duty. The door swung open to permit entrance to a large, purple-faced man, whose girth nearly blocked the entire doorway. He glared down upon Harry, lying sprawled on the floor, turned, and stalked away. After what seemed like hours, he managed to muster up the willpower to raise himself off of the floor, and resume lying on his bed for the rest of the day.

Days bled into hours as he lay on the bed, staring into the white emptiness that was his ceiling. The only break in the monotony being the sporadic meals brought up by his Aunt Petunia. On the third night of his new bout of lethargy, he was stirred from his thoughts by a rapping on the window. Rolling over with a groan, he saw his snow-white owl perched on the sill outside, presumably with a reply to his letter. He groggily stepped out of bed, steadying himself against the chair at his desk to fight off the sudden dizziness. After a few seconds, he managed to stumble to the window and fumble with the latch. As he raised the window, the wooden frame sticking in its grooves, Hedwig floated inside with a flap of her powerful wings. Harry stuck his head out of the window, enjoying the cool night air, when a sharp pang of pain lanced through his head. He shut his eyes in an attempt to alleviate the pain, and upon reopening them, he noticed movement at the end of Privet Drive. Five figures, robes black as night, were moving down the road in a line.

Harry panicked, and ducked his head back into the window. He hastily ran over to his trunk, pulling out his wand, his invisibility cloak, and his shoes. Sweeping his arm across his desk, he piled all of the letters into his trunk, throwing the last of his clothes on top. Latching it shut, he slid the trunk under the foot of his bed. He offered Hedwig a calming pat as he clumsily untied the letter from her leg. He ushered her into her cage, to which she responded with a hoot of resentment. Standing to full height, he picked up the cage and walked over into the far corner of his room. Crouching onto his knees, wand in hand, he swung the invisibility cloak over his head and waited.

Within a few moments, he heard muttering from his open window, and then knocking on the front door. He heard muffled curses as his uncle made his way to the door. He heard the doors lock click open, just as a shout came from outside. "_Reducto!"_ reverberated through the still air in Harry's room as the force of the spell splintered the front door. "I will have no more freaks in my house!", his uncle yelled, before he was cut off with a yell of "_Avada Kedavra". _There was a pair of screams from what he assumed was the living room, and the thunder of footsteps, before they were cut off, presumably by a muttered curse. The thud of footsteps could be heard coming up the steps, and he remained deathly still. He stole a glance out his window, only to notice an odd phenomenon; the streetlamps of Privet Drive seemed to be vanishing one by one.

"_Reducto"_ A female voice yelled, and the door to his room was thrown off its hinges, the numerous locks and chains useless against the magical assault. The Death Eaters swarmed into the room, their wands twitching every which way, when one of the taller ones in the back stated, "He's not here…" The one in the front ripped its mask off, to reveal the twisted visage of Bellatrix Lestrange. Harry's grip tightened around his wand, and it took every amount of restraint in his body to stop himself from jumping up and hexing her into oblivion, but as his fingers gripped around his wand, the last light outside of Number 4 Privet Drive descended into darkness. One of the taller Death Eaters moved swiftly towards the window, nearly kicking Harry in his hiding place. He glanced downwards and could see nothing in the darkness. "We should leave, the boy isn't here, and I'm getting a bad feeling about this."

"No," Bellatrix yelled, "The Dark Lord will not accept failure again!"

The Death Eater ripped his mask off, throwing it aside, to reveal the scowled visage of Lucius Malfoy, "I refuse to stay and be captured by the Aurors, let alone Dumbledore and his damned order. Anyone who sees any point in staying suffers from dementia, and give your track record, Bellatrix, its not too far fetched of an idea." Lucius pulled his staff from his robes, which Harry knew concealed a wand, and apparated with a loud crack.

There was another loud crack from the bottom of the staircase, but it was a crack of breaking wood, not magic. The remaining 4 Death Eaters turned on the spot, facing the door now, as a pair of shadows made their way up the staircase. Bellatrix took cautious steps to the door, and leapt onto the landing above the stairs. "_Crucio_" escaped her lips, but she immediately regretted it. The spell bounced back at her, rebounding off of the shield cast by none other than one Albus Dumbledore. Bellatrix lay on the ground, twitching in pain, as Dumbledore ascended to the landing. One of the remaining three turned and apparated, knowing it to be beyond his limit to face Dumbledore, leaving the odds two to one, and arguably in Dumbledore's favor. Without a word, a ball of light coalesced at the end of his wand, and shot towards the pair. The first Death Eater dove to the side, behind Harry's bed, but the other was not as lucky. He erected a magical shield to block the incoming attack, but the ball merely shattered through it and hit him with the force of the Knight Bus. The masked Death Eater slumped against the wall, out cold. Dumbledore took two paces forward and with a flick of his wand, Harry saw the other Death Eater's eyes roll up into his head as he became unconscious. Dumbledore gave the corner, and Harry by extension, a knowing look, and took a step towards his hiding place.

Bellatrix Lestrange was in pain, she knew, but the how and why escaped her in her torment. After what seemed like ages, the pain began to recede, and she began to remember. She saw the old fool dispatch of her useless partners, and then take a step towards the window, his attention obviously elsewhere, and she chose to rise. Raising her wand, she aimed it square at Dumbledore's back, and she began to speak, "_Avada Keda-"_

She was cut off, however, as there was a shimmer in the corner, and a shout of _"Expelliarmus"_. Bellatrix's wand flew out of her hand, and she was blown backwards into the wall, falling to the ground. Harry rose from his position and stalked towards Lestrange, picking her wand up off the floor while doing so. He pocketed hers, his own never erring from its aim. He stood over her, feeling all the rage and hatred he had stored up since that June. He bent down low over her, his face inches from her, and she began to laugh manically.

"Look at wee little Potter, all angwy!" More laughter. She looked into his eyes, and watched as they changed. The vibrant green that was so characteristic of his mother darkened, lines of black snaking through them. She stopped laughing, and for the first time in a long while, she was afraid of someone other than Dumbledore.

Still keeping low to her, he twirled his wand and muttered, "_Incarcerous_". Thick ropes bound Bellatrix around her hands and feet, leaving her helpless on the ground. He pocketed his own wand and extended himself to full height. He looked down upon her, and saw something unfamiliar to him in her eyes, fear. He hesitated for a moment at this sight, but then reached into his other pocket, withdrawing her wand. He held it in front of her eyes, and with a resounding crack, broke it in two with just his one hand. He tossed the pieces at her, and turned to Dumbledore.

"Harry," he said, worry in his eyes, "It's not safe here, Voldemort must have found a way around the blood wards. You're to come stay at the Headquarters until further arrangements can be made." Harry simply nodded, and began to grab his things. He held Hedwig's cage in his left hand, the Invisibility Cloak draped over it, and propped up his trunk with the right. He felt Dumbledore grab his wrist, and with a flick of the wand, they were gone from Privet Drive.

**A/N: Ok, how was it? I do love reviews so much, and it makes my day when it pops up in an e-mail. I'm also in search of a beta reader for this story, so if you're interested, drop me a line at iikaeyneii(at)yahoo(dot)com. The more reviews I get, the quicker I'll write the next chapter, because I might get sidetracked writing for my Alex Rider fans...**

**See you soon!**


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